


Symphony In White

by Applesap



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Anal, Animal Death, Ectoplasm as Lube, Fingering, M/M, Oral, animal rugs, fucking on a rug, mentions of skinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesap/pseuds/Applesap
Summary: Technus patiently waits for Skulker in his cabin while he's out hunting.
Relationships: Skulker/Nicolai Technus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Symphony In White

Technus waits for Skulker on the wolfskin rug in front of the fireplace. The flames are warm compared to the rest of the Ghost Zone where it burns like raging wildfires, uncontrollable and impenetrable.

Skulker seeks to tame things that are wild, and like anything else he gets his hands on he cages it within his home. His hearth soothes the hunter’s cabin with a green glow which makes the monsters he has collected over the many years seem alive in the flickering light and dancing shadows.

Thick white curtains keep prying eyes out and the warmth in, although neither Skulker or Technus care much for either. Like all the furniture in the room, it is there for aesthetics. His bedroom is a decor. A way to show off his hard work. A place for Skulker to sit and admire his craft. Prying eyes may view his collection too if they dare to come close. Outside there is a moon looking upon the hunter’s cabin, keeping a watchful eyes on its enemies. It is a little planet created by Phantom where he can sit and dream. A bit of good in between the dangers of the Ghost Zone, the self-imposed superhero claims, but the curtains are closed now and he cannot look inside. 

Technus does not do much admiring. The pelts on the walls and floors wear grotesque but staged expressions, and he knows the intricate patterns of their fur don’t capture him the way they do Skulker, who can prattle on and on about where he found the creatures and how he hunted them and in what manner he had to treat their furs to preserve their unique appearances.

Technus only cares about Skulker’s hands as he grapples the beasts for dominance and the way he clenches into their fur, attached like a leech like he never wants to let go before he snaps their necks with a twist of his muscles. There is never a gentleness to it. He takes what is his, unrelenting. Technus wishes he would come home soon.

Familiar in the hunter’s home, he takes off his boots and lets his toes wiggle in the soft fur of the blue and brown wolf under him. Static twitches softly between the strands. The few electronics Skulker keeps in this room come to life.

He turns on the playlist on the laptop he has brought with him. The song that plays is too soft and echoes too much in the room padded with fur and monsters, but it keeps his attention while his gaze is fixed on the front door. It is a poem recited by an older sounding woman while disjointed synthesisers play their haunting tune. The album colors fit the draperies and the floor of the cabin. Stark white and dead blue.

She speaks of the evil in a man’s heart in words that sound familiar to him but which he can’t place. He might have heard the poem before, who knows. It rings true, though. Flowers of Evil. So far it is not his favorite album by Ruth White - he prefers the classical pieces in Short Circuits - but there is something about the way she nearly chants the poem that captures him, the calmth in her intonations as she explains to Technus the desires of evil people. He sways slowly over the rug to pass the time, listening for movement outside the cabin, waiting for his own evil person.

Soon enough, he hears a sound coming up the path around the cabin. A joyful whistling announces the end of the hunt, much like it announces another. 

A forceful shove opens the door. A grin creeps up on Technus’ face.

Covered from head to hands in ectoplasm and gore, Skulker brings in an elk on his shoulders while the rest of the creature drags behind. He is not the tallest ghost around, but with the dying animal framing him with a halo of blackness he strikes an imposing figure in the doorway.

The glint in the hunter’s eye is pointed when he notices Technus. The whistling stops and his lips quirk up in a smile, interested. 

“Waiting patiently like a trophy, aren’t you.” Skulker chuckles. Technus, for all his composition, can’t help it. His knees turn weak.

Skulker’s muscles bulge as he holds onto the furred ankles of the elk to keep it steady. The animal lives still, kicking helplessly around Skulker’s throat in a last futile attempt to escape the hunter. The beast in his doorway is merely a wanted guest, inferior under Skulker’s command. It makes Technus ravenous, wishing it were his ankles under Skulker’s palms.

“I’ll handle this for a second,” Skulker says, cocking his chin up. “You can wait longer, can’t you.” 

“Not really,” Technus calls after him, but Skulker didn’t ask him. He’s already on his way to his workshop. Technus has been there once and doesn’t wish to see it again, so he stays put, watching the limp head of the animal drag a thick trail of green blood after it. He leans in just slightly as Skulker disappears behind the corner.

He hears a groan and the weight of the elk dropped onto the floor. It whines for the last time before Skulker kicks it.

Technus doesn’t have the heart for cruelty himself. A defeated animal is just that. No need to drill that hopelessness further in. It makes him a hypocrite for being content to watch Skulker as he lashes out at other creatures before dragging them off to his slaughterhouse while they’re still alive and kicking at his shins. But Skulker is so darn competent, and Technus loves to see him work.

“What the hell is that noise,” Skulker says once he comes back. He has wiped off his hands and face and is now mostly rid of all the gore. His shirt has mysteriously disappeared as well.

“Poetry. But I wouldn’t expect an animal like you to know--” Technus is cut off by a forceful kiss, all teeth and tongue laid against his lips. Technus keens and leans into him, hands in his flaming hair, unable to truly complain as Skulker embraces him in his strong grasp.

“Turn it off,” Skulker groans.

“Okay,” Technus sighs.

He shuts down the playlist with hardly a jolt from his powers, though he leaves the computer on for electrical comfort. He would’ve done so even without Skulker’s complaints. Neither of them care for the singing of men and women while they fucked, as it covers up each other’s moans and groans and pleadings for more. Maybe a long time ago they would have wanted noise to cover up their newly blossoming desires, but they’re way past that point now.

Skulker’s fingers waste no time with his buttons while he bites and drags over Technus’ lips like a wolf tearing into tendons. He takes off his coat, letting it hang on his hips, and reveals Technus’ bare shoulders which he kisses readily, holding his ribcage in his hands.

Half-naked in front of the fireplace, the insistent burn on Technus’ back is a hot manifestation of his need. It licks down his spine while Skulker licks his collarbone on the front.

He grasps at Skulker’s buckle and unclasps it, the metal clinking in such a way that makes Technus want to fall to his knees and shove his cock in his mouth immediately.

His zipper is next. The tented underwear pokes at his knuckles and he can’t help but finger the insistent bulge tenderly as he gasps against Skulker’s metal lips. 

“Bored without me, huh?” the hunter says. 

Technus scoffs, but they both know he’s full of it. “You wish.”

Skulker’s hands guide him over his cock, stern, and if Technus didn’t know any better he’d think the guy was mad at him, but he’s just impatient. Skulker’s hands seem to shake from the force he uses as he slips his underwear down so it can jut upwards, masturbating with Technus’ long hands in between before leaving Technus to it. Skulker groans satisfied. 

Taller than Skulker, his face falls down into his neck, hugging him and sinking into that rumbling throat. “Seems like you’re waiting harder than me!”

He gets a rough hand shoved against his head for his comment. Technus cackles and takes the hint. He kneels down onto the rug, face lovingly close to the little flames that make up his pubes as he strokes the head of his cock, one hand cupping his balls just the way he likes it. 

Skulker curses and presses his head down insistently, right to business. “Get to it. Been waiting since the hunt.”

Of course that would get the guy riled up. “Then why bother hunting at all?” Technus remarks. Skulker clenches his fingers in his hair as a warning. 

No matter. Technus grins wide and licks the flames on his underbelly before tasting the rock hard base of his dick. “You think you’re enough to get the blood flowing? Don’t flatter yourself.”

Not enough, huh? 

Technus gingerly places his mouth over his cockhead, rimming the foreskin with his soft tongue, moaning against his iron skin as he takes him deeper bit by bit. He goes slow, which isn’t at all what Skulker is waiting for and the other man snarls. He wants it hard. The hunt had him biding his time, waiting for his time to strike in calculated positioning and attack. Now that he’s home he expects Technus to go fling himself at him.

“Not your… trophy,” Technus says in between sucks. 

“Oh, I think I have something to say against that.”

Skulker shoves him away from his cock and drops his pants to the floor. His cock bounces as he kneels down, and he presses his hand on top of his chest to bury him into the rug. Technus’ knees point up as Skulker settles between them. Grabbing his coat, Skulker shreds the last buttons off, baring his naked thighs and grinding up against his unclothed cock.

“Commando?” Skulker grins cheekily, like a bully finding out your worst secret, pure joy on his rotten face. 

“Not doing anything with it, am I?” 

“Guess not.” Skulker leans over, reaching under him to put a finger in Technus’ ass, slicked up by ectoplasm. Technus wiggles at the intrusion, welcoming his fingers. “Hmm. Warm already.” He looks behind him at the fireplace and connects the dots, lazily fingering him with his thick finger. “You melt yourself? Get horny from the heat? ‘S that why you’re always so hands on in my flames.”

“Don’t be foolish. Nothing can--” Skulker puts in another finger, curling them up against his sweet spot, making whatever thought Technus just had completely irrelevant. Throwing back his head, he moans. “Ohh… Ohh, evil…” 

“Evil. Huh. Whatever gave you that idea.” Technus doesn’t answer, which is fine by Skulker since he never expects an answer anyway. 

Technus winces when Skulker takes out his lovely fingers to hold his thigh in his arm to position himself over Technus. He holds his cock in place to poke against his waiting hole and grinds slowly against the dip, breaching his rim and pulling out slightly in a teasing motion until Technus whines for more. 

Skulker takes his ankles in his hands, wrings them like he wrung that elk’s, and pushes them up until his knees are spread as far as they can. He grins that mad crooked grin of his and Technus has the sense to relax his hole in the split second before Skulker makes the uneducated decision to not wait for him to adjust to his size. Skulker burrowing himself deep and hard inside his ass, pulls back out, and pistons forwards again like a wild dog as he ploughs him in earnest.

“You wait for me while I’m hunting,” he says through Technus’ moans. “You ready yourself for me. I lay you out like my rugs and fuck you over twice as hard as I’ve ever killed. Tell me again how you’re not my trophy.”

Through his moaning Technus supposes Skulker is right. That’s why he comes here in the first place, doesn’t he? Lays himself out on his rug, or waits for him on his bed or his chair just to let Skulker fuck his brains out after he comes home. That’s all he’s here for. Neither of them can hold up a conversation to save their lives, but fucking? That, they’re good at.

Skulker’s head is brusque as he concentrates on ramming his dick in as quickly as he possibly can, fucking Technus hard into the brown rug. He focuses on Technus’ long nose buried in the soft fur and the pointed green ears against stark white hair and his chest which rises every time their hips connect like it’s flinching away from his assault.

Glancing up, Technus’ slant eyes meet Skulker’s piercing stare. They match so well, Technus suddenly realises, and he grins at the thought. “You’re an ugly beast, Skulker,” he tells him. 

“And you’re mine.” Skulker growls at him, almost grunts as the superficial air is pushed out of his non-existent lungs. 

Technus can’t do anything but nod in agreement, eyes closed and moaning against the rug as Skulker ploughs into him.

Skulker finishes first in this scenario. He grunts deeply and sudden, spilling his seed inside and riding it out with some after spasms. Lowering Technus’ ankles, finally freeing him from the burning in his thighs, he pulls out his cock. Ignoring Technus’ pleas for release, Skulker admires his work, watching Technus’ hole dripping cum and dirtying the roughed up strands of fur under him. 

Cursing in frustration, Technus takes his own cock in hand, balling his fist and jerking up and down just three times before his cock spits its own release, moaning one last time. His knees are weak and tremble before they fall open in exhaustion. His hand is covered in long ropes of cum and he lets it hang over his shoulders for a second, giving Skulker the pleasure of watching him pass out fucked out of his mind. 

He’ll wake up in a minute, Skulker knows. He always does, the weak little freak. Probably will be soggy for a while after that. He’ll be better once he gets himself sorted out between the ones and zeros of his own world.

The curtains remain closed. His rug is in disarray and will probably have to be cleaned and re-brushed, but disregarding that they’ve behaved for once. No broken furniture this time or torn tapestries and covers. His decor remains pristine.

Taking Technus’ discarded coat, Skulker wipes his cock and thighs clean. He dresses himself, clicking his belt buckle secure over his black cargo pants. He steps over Technus’ resting body and heads towards his workplace, but not before bringing Technus’ laptop with him. Listening to poetry will be nice while he skins the elk.

**Author's Note:**

> two observations.  
> 1\. I think they’re fucking on a rug guys. did you get that they fucked? like on a rug? because people I think they’re fucking on a rug.  
> 2\. Skulker is dragging the elk inside with its balls on top of his head and I didnt know how to change that because im a hack writer.


End file.
